


En Pointe

by sual



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Amateur BDSM, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armitage Hux - Freeform, BDSM, Ballet heels, Bottom Hux, Dom!Kylo, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Feminization, Humiliation, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Stockings, Sub!Hux, Top Kylo Ren, Voyeurism, foot binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7525795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sual/pseuds/sual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux wants nothing more than to give up control, even for a moment, eager and desperate to please, and Kylo…Kylo just wants someone to <em>trust</em> in him, for once, to believe he can do something right. </p><p>Today's trust-fall: ballet heels. </p><p> </p><p>Oneshot PWP fic featuring discussions of foot-binding and Hux attempting to walk in 8-inch heels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	En Pointe

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a self-indulgent little PWP oneshot I've been needing to get out of my system for a while, very much inspired by [jakkutrashheap's](http://jakkutrashheap.tumblr.com/) Dom!Kylo drawings, particularly [this set](http://jakkutrashheap.tumblr.com/post/146147113707/some-shit). This is also my first fic with the name "Armitage"...I actually kind of like the name! Squeezed in my own personal preferred diminutive of it at the end, haha.
> 
> There's no actual footbinding in this fic, but there is discussion of it. I've always been kind of weirdly fascinated with it, but thank god it's a historical practice these days.

“A long time ago,” Kylo begins, as if they’re about to indulge in a night of storytelling rather than sex, “centuries before the Clone Wars, even- there was this fashion for a while among the elite on Naboo.”

Hux arches an eyebrow from where he lies back on the Knight’s bed in only black, lace-trimmed shorts, but he keeps his mouth shut. The soft leather collar has already been buckled reverently around his throat; the game has already begun. He watches, raised up on his elbows, as Kylo digs around the back of his storage closet for something, still mostly dressed in the black tank top he wears under his robes along with grey trousers and boots. Eventually he makes a noise of triumph, stepping back with what appears to be a black shoebox. He sets the box at the foot of the bed before kneeling on the floor, tugging Hux by the legs further down the mattress so that the General’s calves dangle over the side.

“It was called foot-binding,” Kylo continues, mouthing at the bony protrusions of Hux’s ankles. “Have you heard of it?”

“No, sir,” Hux replies meekly.

The knight hums appreciatively against the top of one foot, pleased with the response. He opens his eyes to fix Hux with a dark, hungry look. “They would break the feet of their children, sons and daughters that were going to be married off to other families,” he says, voice low, grip tightening painfully around the smaller man’s ankle. He smoothes his hands lower, thumbs digging up against the arch of Hux’s right foot. “Here; they would snap their toes, fold them under, and then the arch would be broken too.”

Kylo lets go with one hand, reaching with it to rummage in the shoebox and coming up with a roll of white bandage. Hux’s breath hitches; he’d known Kylo wanted to do something with his feet when the Knight asked him to clip his toenails back, but surely…he spends his life on his feet, marching from one end of the Finalizer to the other, Kylo _knows_ that. But still, the dark-haired man gazes longingly at Hux’s foot, bending the bones of his toes this way and that as if testing their range, pressing his fingers in uncomfortably as if to feel for every metatarsal.  

And Hux knows the man is absolutely strong enough to break them with his bare hands.

“They thought it was attractive,” Kylo says thoughtfully. “Erotic. Little feet. It would change the way they walked, the sway of their hips, the clench of their pelvis. But _I_ think,” he leans forward conspiratorially, and Hux holds his breath in suspense, “it was about _control_.”

Kylo sighs contentedly, kissing the toes between his hands one by one. “They could barely walk for the pain each step caused them. How could they ever run away from the men and women they were betrothed to?” His kisses travel up higher, back to Hux’s ankle. “What a lovely thought…to have you trapped here, waiting for me, whether you like it or not.”

His grip hardens, tight enough to make Hux gasp with genuine fear, and for a moment his safeword skitters across his mind when he sees Kylo reach for the bandages again.

But then Kylo sighs, and his hold softens. “What a shame,” he says mournfully, running a calming hand along Hux’s calves, “that your bones are too hard now, your feet too long for the process already.” He brightens suddenly, patting the pale shins before him decisively. “Still. We have alternatives.”

Hux lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, relief flooding through him. He’s used to pain in their games, enjoys it even, but broken bones are a whole new level he’d really rather discuss in detail first.

“Hush, darling,” Kylo soothes, hearing the thought, “you trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Hux says, and means it, as bizarre as that seems to him these days. Kylo hums his approval, taking a narrow foot between his big palms and carefully, methodically, he winds the white bandages from toes over arch around heel up to ankle and back again. Not tight enough to hurt; like boxing tape before a sparring session. Support, Hux thinks absently. He flexes his toes as best he can when the Knight moves on to his other leg, finding his foot wrapped to angle stiffly downwards like a dancer en pointe.

When each foot is done, Kylo returns his attention to the box, pulling out a pair of opaque, thigh-high black stockings with a three-inch band of detailed lace at the top. He rolls each one carefully up Hux’s legs, snapping the elastic under the lace that keeps them up against his thighs as if to test that they’ll stay put. The wraps around his feet give the stockings an odd silhouette, lumpy and unattractive, but Kylo seems satisfied with his work so far. He finally pulls off the lid of the shoebox, revealing-

 _Oh_. Kylo’s plans for this session click into place in Hux’s mind; the box contains a pair of leather ballet-boots a little over ankle-height, with brutally high heels equal to the length of the sole. The toe of the shoe ends on points. With an unbearably pleased expression, Kylo lifts them out of the box and begins to strap Hux into them. Fuck. He’s never even walked in so much as _kitten_ heels before, forget Kylo snapping his toes, he’s going to trip and break his ankle and-

No. He trusts Kylo. Kylo will catch him.

That’s what these games are about, after all.

“Beautiful,” the Knight murmurs, standing over the bed to inspect his work. Hux stretches his legs out to see for himself; the shoes force his feet downwards, curled onto tiptoes. He’s going to be grateful for the extra support binding later, he can tell. With the stockings and stretch of his feet, his already long, slim legs seem impossibly longer, elegant and feminine.

When he looks up, Kylo is watching him with lust-dark eyes, erection already visible and straining against his pants. “Come on,” Kylo says softly, bending down to pick Hux up bridal style and carry him into the front room of the Knight’s quarters.

He pauses in the threshold to take a deep breath, before pushing the furniture of the room outwards with the force on the exhale, tables and couches screeching up against the walls. His desk ends up on one side of the room, while his favourite armchair bumps against the opposite wall; he gently deposits Hux to sit on the edge of the desk, leaving him there while he crosses the room to flop down heavily in his armchair.

Hux waits patiently for his orders, good as gold.

“So lovely for me, General,” Kylo smirks, reaching down to palm himself through his trousers. Hux’s eyes stray hungrily to the stiff line pressed up against the material; Kylo bites his lip, hand teasing at the zipper of his fly before he tugs it down, slowly, slowly. “Is this what you want, my darling?” he says lowly, watching the bob of Hux’s Adam’s apple under the collar as he swallows intently.

“ _Yes_ ,” Hux breathes, “sir,” he adds, knowing exactly where this game is going.

Kylo grins, hand slipping under the band of his underwear to free his cock. “Then come and get it.”

Hux gasps, pushing himself off the desk. He starts to lower himself to the floor to crawl over before Kylo lets out a sharp noise of admonishment.

“Ah- _ah_!” Kylo scolds, “you want my cock, you walk over here. No crawling.” He lazily starts to stroke his long shaft, thick and tempting, head glistening wet already; as if Hux even needs the encouragement, but the redhead lets slip a small, pitiful whine from his throat anyway.

With his hands on the desk for support, Hux attempts to stand in the shoes. First things first. His legs tremble almost instantly when he lets go of the table, all of his weight balanced precariously on his toes – there’s no way, he thinks. He tries to lean back onto the sharp heels instead, but overbalances and falls back clumsily onto the desk, ass landing with an uncomfortable thump. Across the room, Kylo groans, hand speeding up to jerk himself off in earnest now. With a humiliated flush across his cheeks, Hux irritably pushes himself off the desk again.

He manages a few tiny, awkward steps forward before gravity catches up with him.  

The fall seems to happen in slow motion; his leg twists uncomfortably. He’ll sprain, if not break, something should he land on it, and for a terrifying moment he braces himself for it to happen – but then comes that familiar, goosebump feeling of the Force catching him, and he suddenly really is being lowered down to the floor in slow motion, until he lands on his hands and knees safe on the hard, shiny tiling.

Kylo doesn’t mention it, instead slicking his thumb through the precum gathered at his slit and smearing downwards. “I’m waiting,” he sing-songs, and Hux curses through his teeth.

“Kylo- _sir_ , I _can’t_ ,” he protests from the floor, head hanging between his shoulders.

“Then I’ll finish without you,” Kylo replies easily, one fist pumping his shaft while the other shifts inside his underwear to squeeze at his balls. “Your choice.”

The redhead makes a frustrated noise; he’s fallen too far forwards from the desk to use it for leverage now. There are only three metres between him and Kylo; perhaps, if he can just stand and get far enough to fall forwards again-

“You will _walk_ ,” Kylo says darkly in response to the thought, ever present in Hux’s mind during these games (just in case). “Stop trying to cheat. You want my cock, you walk over here.”

Fine. With some effort, Hux manages to at least push himself up into a sort of crouch, the tips of his fingers splayed on the floor in front of him for balance, but back onto the pointed toes of his shoes again. The muscles in his legs scream in protest as he tries to stand back up, calves and knees and thighs shaking, arms out to either side of him like a tightrope walker. That feeling of elegance and grace at seeing the exaggerated length of his legs earlier is long gone, along with his usual proud strut as General; instead he feels like a particularly awkward, three-legged AT-AT. It’s a little easier to stand once he finally gets back onto the points of his toes and the heels, at least, attempting to distribute his weight more evenly across the four tiny pinpricks of surface area afforded to him, but the longer he stands there wobbling, the more his ankles begin to cramp painfully.

One foot carefully, stiffly moved forward, just the smallest of steps after the other. He sways like the stalk of a plant in a breeze. Another stutter of a step; then one more. He vaguely registers Kylo muttering, “Fuck that’s hot,” under his breath, the fast, slick noise of his hand working his cock, but he’s too busy concentrating on staying upright to give it much thought. He falls once more before he finally tiptoes his way over to Kylo in halting movements – the Knight almost doesn’t catch him the second time, too lost in arousal, and his knees hit the floor a little harder than Kylo means him to.

He collapses onto his knees again gratefully and gracelessly when he finally gets between Kylo’s splayed thighs. His legs are going to be agony tomorrow, but at least now Kylo’s cock is inches away from his mouth, fat and flushed and perfect. The dark-haired man moves the hand from his balls to tangle his fingers in Hux’s red hair, and the General opens his mouth in anticipation of being pulled forward for a face-fucking-

-but instead, Kylo wrenches his head back painfully, and whispers only, “Too late.”

Hux flinches at the first splatter of cum on his face, unprepared; he manages to squeeze his eyelids shut before the next ropey streak of it gets in his eyes, curling his tongue out of his already open mouth quickly in a desperate attempt to catch some of that familiar taste. He moans unhappily as Kylo groans above him, stroking out the last drops of his seed and rubbing the head of his cock along Hux’s cum-sticky cheeks. Opening the one eye without lashes clumped together by jizz, Hux dares to look up at Kylo with a sulky expression.

“Shh, don’t whine,” Kylo huffs as he comes down from his orgasm, “you know I’ll give you what you need.” He leans back in his armchair, looking at the mess he’s made of the smaller man’s face fondly, as if trying to commit the sight to memory. Hux licks his lips lewdly in response, gathering up what he can reach with his tongue.

Eventually, Kylo sighs and tucks himself back into his pants, extending a hand to summon a cloth from the refresher with the Force. “C’mere, pretty,” he commands, patting his lap pointedly, and Hux scrambles to lift himself up to sit across Kylo’s thighs. He wipes Hux’s face clean before chucking the cloth carelessly onto the floor, more interested in kissing the redhead’s forehead and stroking his hands up and down the stocking-covered legs splayed on top of him.

“Now, my little eye candy,” Kylo says firmly, “I have work to do, and _you_ are going to sit here nicely and stay quiet. Got it?” He rearranges Hux in his lap so that the General’s head is tucked up against his shoulder, one arm curled around his back keeping him in place and his calves dangling over the armrest.

“Mhm,” Hux nods, “sir.”

“Good.” Kylo lazily waves over a datapad with his free hand, opening it up to some document in a long dead language. Hux peers down at it with him for a moment; later, when the game is done, he might ask for the General’s opinion on this or that obscure metaphor, but for now Kylo only frowns down at it, absently stroking a hand over Hux’s skin in thought. Most of his work outside of hunting down Jedi involves deciphering ancient Force-related tomes, or so it seems. Hux allows himself to close his eyes and simply be held; this is a familiar tactic of Kylo’s by now, when the Force-user deems him overworked and in need of a break, to use their games to force him to be still and do nothing before he’s rewarded with the attention he craves.

He has precious little free time, as General, and yet these days he finds almost all of his recreational hours given willingly to entertaining the whims of the resident Knight of Ren. It had been a matter of convenience, at first, each having something the other needed; Hux wants nothing more than to give up control, even for a moment, eager and desperate to please, and Kylo…Kylo just wants someone to _trust_ in him, for once, to believe he can do something right. He tried to tell himself, for a while, that it was only to stave off the boredom of command, crushed down that tiny voice in his head that wants forever to be the sole object of the Knight’s affections, the little thrill that comes with every loving pet name from Kylo’s mouth.

And then Kylo whispered those three words, and neither of them could find it in themselves to lie anymore.

Hux dozes against Kylo’s shoulder, not quite asleep, content against the warmth of his lover’s body and his familiar, musky scent. When he next blinks his eyes open sleepily, he finds Kylo halfway through his document, brow furrowed in concentration and fingers skimming along Hux’s ribs. He stays quiet, eager to be good and sweet for Kylo, closing his eyes once more.

Instead he entertains himself by turning over what Kylo told him earlier in his head, thinking of foot binding and swaying on tiny, disfigured feet; idly imagines himself married off to Prince Kylo of Naboo, carried to and fro and worshipped by his husband on a pedestal. No, not that; the fantasy changes, and now in his mind Kylo carries him bridal-style as he did earlier around the Finalizer. Helpless and dependent on his lover, and still leading the First Order nonetheless. Or maybe Kylo would kidnap him, spirit him away to some faraway planet and keep him like a treasure…perhaps he’ll practice and learn to walk in these boots properly, slink along the ship’s bridge in them-

A noise underneath him has him blinking out of his reverie. Hux looks up at Kylo to find the Knight staring wide-eyed at him, face-flushed – _ah_. He must have been thinking loudly, then.  

“Needy thing,” Kylo murmurs hoarsely. His datapad has already been set down somewhere, and only now does Hux register the newly hard length pressing insistently under his thigh. Kylo lifts his free hand to pinch his fingers around Hux’s jaw, pulling him into a filthy kiss, licking into his mouth and sucking at lips and tongue down to neck and shoulders and dusky pink nipples, relentless. His idle fantasies already had him at half-mast, but the possessive attention has Hux as hard as Kylo within moments. “This what you need?” the Knight growls around a peaked nub, punctuating the words with one, long grind up against Hux’s leg.

“Please,” Hux breathes.

Kylo fists a hand into his hair and yanks his head back. “Please, _what_?”

“Please, sir,” Hux moans, “I need you, _please_ -“

“Better,” Kylo relents, stroking his fingers gently through soft red hair instead. “Up on your feet for a sec.” If standing in these heels while concentrating was difficult, trying to balance when desperate and rock hard is near impossible – thankfully Kylo allows Hux to use him for balance as the Force-user extricates himself from the chair. He arranges the General as he wants him, kneeling on the seat of the armchair facing the back of it instead. The Knight makes quick work of tugging Hux’s shorts down and off, before he directs Hux to balance his calves on the armrests and lean forward, legs spread and ass in the air, dick stiff and dripping in between. Kylo smoothes his hands down from the swell of the smaller man’s ass, down his silky stockings and over the unrelenting heels of the boots, before leaning forward to press a brief kiss to the small of Hux’s back. “Wait there.”

He returns a moment later, lube in hand, and were it not for the leather collar reminding Hux of his place in this game he’d chew the Force-user out for it; he could have just as easily summoned it as he did the towel, instead of drawing things out. Enough of the thought process slips through that Kylo drips the lube onto his asshole directly, still cold, and Hux lets out a very unmanly squeak.

He doesn’t have to turn around to know that Kylo is smirking.

The Knight spreads him apart with both thumbs, circling around his hole with the slick; Hux sighs gratefully, leaning back into the touch when one finger presses inside him. Kylo takes his time, gently fucking in and out before pulling back to add more lube to his hands for a second finger while the redhead squirms with need.

“Patience, my love,” Kylo chides, sliding two fingers back in easily and scissoring, “you know I like you nice and wet for me.” With his free hand, Kylo hooks a finger underneath Hux’s collar, forcing him to arch his back to keep from choking, and then a third finger slips into his hole and Hux doesn’t have to try much to arch at all, moans spilling from his lips. Behind him, he can hear Kylo’s breath speed up, impatient too-

-then suddenly Kylo’s fingers are gone, and another cold dollop of lube is squeezed into his stretched hole. Hux yelps and nearly falls off the armrests while the Force-user laughs behind him.

“There we go,” Kylo grins, punctuating the end of his preparation with a light smack to Hux’s ass. “You can get down now.” Hux turns around on the armchair, fully intending to give Kylo his best and most petulant scowl, but the sight of Kylo already naked and bare just has him salivating instead – _so that’s why he left for the lube_ , Hux thinks.

The Knight walks backwards towards his bedroom, still smirking, one fist around his waiting cock. “You want this, you better bring that dripping pussy here quickly this time,” he calls with a truly shit-eating grin. Hux’s expression must crumple at the thought of walking any further in these heels tonight, because he charitably adds “I’ll even let you crawl,” before biting his lip and disappearing into the bedroom.

Hux wastes no time. It should, by all accounts, feel humiliating to scrabble on hands and knees, excess lube dripping thickly down his perineum to tickle his aching balls, but the General really can’t find it in himself to care when he makes his shuffling way into the bedroom to find Kylo waiting on the bed with an indulgent smile for him.  

“Fuck it, c’mere,” Kylo huffs with amusement, standing to hook his arms underneath Hux’s torso and lift him bodily onto the mattress, and a little thrill runs through him from the manhandling. Kylo rolls Hux onto his back, then pulls his legs forward until his is ass flush against the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of him in almost the same position the game started in. “Legs for fucking days…” Kylo murmurs, leaving sloppy kisses from the inside of Hux’s thighs up until he’s kissing the leather ballet heels.

“ _Please,_ sir please, fuck me _please_ ,” Hux begs, while Kylo hooks the redhead’s legs over his shoulders.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Kylo sighs happily, and then finally he’s lining up and pushing in past the tight ring of muscle with a lung-deep groan. Finally, _finally_ , Hux thinks in a daze at the stretch, eyes fluttering while the breath leaves him all in one go. The Knight’s oversized hands come up to play with his feet while Hux adjusts, clenching and relaxing around the thick length as Kylo strokes his palms up and down the brutal arch of the soles. When Hux shifts his hips in a silent plea for movement, Kylo moves his hands to grip the long heels of the shoes like handles, using them to keep the smaller man’s legs in place as he snaps his hips forward.

“ _Ah_! Fuck, please, again, _more_ ,” Hux gasps, hands twisting above his head in the sheets and hard-won air punched back out of him. Kylo yanks him back by the heels onto his cock, tipping him up just enough that there, there’s the head of Kylo’s dick pressing hard against his prostate, and Hux feels himself go cross-eyed at the sensation, moaning incoherently between each violent thrust. Kylo groans at the feel of his hole squeezing around him, fucking deep and fast until he has to let go of the heels, instead letting Hux’s legs fall to bend him near in half while Kylo braces his hands against the bed. Fuck, but he loves this, Hux giving up all control to let Kylo do as he pleases, thrusting brutal and animalistic.

“So good for me, Tidge, so fffucking tight,” Kylo stutters out between thrusts, feeling the rush of pleasure in Hux’s mind at the seldom-permitted nickname; Armitage, tidbit and a smidge, slight and beautiful and so very loved and dear. He reaches one hand forward to hook a finger roughly under the leather collar again to turn Hux’s glassy eyes to meet his, revelling in the dreamy look of adoration the smaller man gazes up at him with. “Touch yourself,” Kylo pants desperately, “c’mon, wanna see you come for me, feel it around me.”

Hux reaches between them obediently, the toes of his already taut feet trying to curl even further at the first brush of his palm against his cockhead, wet with precum. He’s so fucking gone, silent little sighs of ecstasy all he can push past his lips; with only a few tugs of his wrist that familiar, blinding heat rushes through his groin all at once, and Hux spills himself between them with a soundless cry.

Kylo gasps at the vice-like clench of his lover’s hole around him, managing only a few more stuttering thrusts before he goes off himself, cum filling Hux full to bursting. He collapses down on top of Hux with a loud groan, paying no mind to the soft ‘oof’ the smaller man lets out underneath him while his cock finishes twitching, the last few dribbles of cum slipping deep inside.

“Mmm…my Tidge, my little darling,” Kylo mumbles dreamily against Hux’s skin, “all mine.” He forces himself to pull out and get up on his elbows so he can undo the collar around the smaller man’s neck, unclasping it and setting it aside. “Good?”

“I’m not little,” Hux grumbles sleepily, but he leans down for a lazy kiss anyway. “Thank you for not breaking my bones,” he adds, a little nonsensically, eyes still closed as he lies back blissfully. Kylo snorts, but something in his heart clenches. He steals another kiss before sitting up to free the General’s feet from their confines. Hux hums with relief as the Knight stretches his ankles this way and that, rolling down the black stockings and unwinding the bindings before massaging the stiffness out from his toes too.

“Thank you for believing I wouldn’t,” Kylo mumbles quietly, and when Hux smiles and opens his eyes, Kylo finds nothing but trust.


End file.
